Back in Nakasagi
by Hamfast Gamgee
Summary: Suppose a pal of Gary's happened to journey through the same time portal? Maybe he has different experiences! Please R and R, Ham
1. Chapter 1

Back in Nagasaki

A Goodnight Sweetheart tale. I should perhaps point out that Gary Sparrow is not the main character in this tale, but a pal of his who stumbles upon the same time portal. This tale explores what might have happened to someone else using the same time portal. Hope this doesn't make Steve a Gary Stu! He's going to have enough problems!

-0o0o0o0o0o0o0o-

In an expensive house in Finchley, two men were having a boys night in. This was a Tuesday. In 1995. So not much was happening. The two decided to order a takeaway. A Chinese. A large Chinese. 'Hope I can have first dibs on the Chou ribs.' said Steve who was found of that particular dish. 'Don't worry, I'll get enough for both.' replied Ron.

Steve Livingston wondered about this rather confident statement from his pal. Ron was generous, but also very fond of his food. And could eat great amounts without even knowing it. This was a man, Steve recalled that could devour not only an Indian takeaway, a Chinese and a Pizza in one meal. Not to mention chocolate ice cream for desert. Still, Steve looked around the room and wondered what to do.

As Ron rang for the takeaway, Steve took a look at his video rack. Video, not DVDs, this been 1995. 'Hey, Ron, we're here for a while. You've a video here Bridge over the River Kwi, I love a good war film. Nothing like watching other people die, whilst I am nice and save enjoying a meal. Steve was blond, fairly short, but muscular and quite nimble on his feet as it happened.

'Yes, we are here for the night. Let's see what life is like in hotel Singapore, 1942! The Imperial Japanese experience.' Both men laughed. It might seem harsh but the War was long ago and not an experience that they were ever likely to encounter. For now, anyway.

Steve joked whilst watching the movie, 'One slice of bread for a day. After been starved for two. That's what I call a celebrity diet!'

Ron made a face. He was fond of his food, and maybe did feel a tinge of sympathy for the characters in it. 'I think you're been a bit brutal here, mate, have a beer,' suggested he and threw a can of lager to Steve. Slightly to Steve's left, but Steve caught it nimbly with quite impressive reflexes. He took a swig.

'Maybe,' he agreed, scoffing on a Sushi. 'But come on, it happened. A long time ago. We should be able to look back and laugh at it. Doesn't affect us nowadays does it?'

'Well, for some,' said Ron a bit thoughtfully.

An odd thing to say, Steve thought, 'Why do you say that? can't travel in time can you? Not Dr Who are you?' joked he. Then he assumed that Ron was referring to the characters in the film. Actually, Ron was rather a big man, dark, balding and a bit overweight. Still he did enjoy his food.

'The doorbell rang. 'Oh, speak of the devil,' said Ron, though it wasn't Dr Who. The exact opposite in fact, at least in Steve's eyes. Gary Sparrow, a man they both knew from the pub. Gary was tall and lanky with a slight hung dog look about him. He was about a foot taller than the average man, unlike Steve who was a bit short. Though Gary did look startled when he saw what they were watching.

'Oh, my our poor brave boys, how they do suffer on the far east,' Another odd thing to say. Seemed to be the evening for saying odd things, thought Steve.

Ron put him straight, 'You mean how did they suffer,'

'Yes, yes of course. Cheers!' Gary took the lager that Ron offered him. He sat down on the sofa, his long legs, clad in blue jeans stretching out underneath him. 'I was going to ask you, two... Oh will you look, at that!' Gary's thoughts were interrupted by a piece of Japanese brutality upon a poor Tommy, 'Not to forget about our big Darts match on Thursday. Need to be at our best for that one!'

'How could we forget,' replied Ron. As was his wont Ron was smartly dressed in red shirt and dark trousers. 'Actually, Steve is doing removals not far from here with his old man, we could meet up if you like. The Royal Oak lunchtime?' As far as Steve was aware Ron hadn't said anything funny, so he wondered why they both giggled like girls at this.

'Sounds like a good idea, I could do with a bit of lunch I'm sure. Well make that a date.' So it was agreed and they spend the rest of the evening joyfully finishing their takeaways with beer whilst watching the sufferings of wartime POWs in the far east. Only interrupted by a phone call from Gary's wife Yvonne. 'Yes, dearest, see you soon, love you loads, light of my life, bye!' Gary said to considerable smirking from Ron.

'Charming lady,' said Ron and Steve who knew her agreed.

So, after the evenings entertainment, time drew on to Thursday. As he said, Steve was working in the Eastend, doing removals with his Dad and brother. Though, as he found out, the Royal Oak was a difficult pub to find. Right on the back streets, Steve even passed Gary's shop on the way, Blitz and Pieces, but Gary wasn't in. But after some looking Steve found the ale house. It was a modern place. For 1995! A mix of people some city folk, but tradesmen also, so Steve didn't look too out of place in his work clothes. As it happened the move was fairly quiet so Steve wasn't needed much, his Dad told him to take his time at lunch and relax.

The Royal Oak was a small pub, however, dingy and rather unkempt. It could also have done with some decorating. It consisted of one bar and a small TV in the corner, and a fruit machine with flashing lights. These were before the days when every pub had TVs at every angle and people even had the check to complain if one screen failed. This TV showed satellite coverage of some small war in the Balkans. On the plus side the price of beer was half the price it would be around twenty years later.

Steve accepted the offer of a pint of lager from Gary. They looked around the place with interest. 'I suppose you come here all the time.' Steve suggested.

'Not quite all of this time,' said Ron and again Steve thought he was not in on a private joke as both Ron and Gary laughed. 'Has a nice little fireplace,' Ron pointed out.

'Wasn't always a fireplace here,' said Gary knowingly.

Steve's attention was strangely taken up by a picture of a policeman in forties uniform. 'Look, says here Reg Deadman heroic wartime Bobby. Well, I suppose this pub must have been on his beat.' Gary was also looking at the picture with interest. 'Takes a reasonable picture as well. All those years ago!'

'I wonder,' said Gary having an idea. Gary called over the landlord, whom he knew, had run the pub for many years, well it wasn't the type of place that changed hands much, 'Eric!'

'Hang on half a mo, yes?' answered the landlord.

'Don't happen to know anything about this chap in this picture do you?

Eric looked at the picture and scratched his chin. He was a short and bald, slightly tubby little man in chefs uniform as he had been cooking. 'Yes, he was around when I was a nipper. One of the legends of this place. But the old timers know more about him. He was the local bobby in the blitz you know!'

'Yes, thank you, I was aware. I've met his grandson.'

'Ah, yes, the spitting image. A rather modern copper. A terrier on the case.'

'Yes I know I've met him. A stickler for the law,' replied Gary.

'A bit unlike this chap if I am to be truthful. Brains wasn't his strong point. For example,' Eric laughed, 'do you know, he once commissioned the Kray twins to do some work on his garage. He paid them in advance. I think it wasn't until 1970 that they got around to doing anything.

'On a whim, Gary asked, 'Who was your grandfather, by the way?'

'He was called Eric too. And used to run a pub in the war. Bigger than this one, however, called the Golden Lion down by the docks. Still, can't stand around here chatting all day, I've got things to do, see you later!' Gary's face was a picture of horror to anyone that might have noticed.

The three wondered about having a coffee to finish off, but decided to do so cheaper at Gary's shop. Though Gary looked in his fridge and said, 'I'm out of milk!'

'Oh, not to worry, I'll nip out and get some,' offered Steve.

'What about those security gates?'

'Don't worry Ron, the alarms off.' said Gary.

So Steve nipped out the back to the nearest shops.

'Now he's gone for a moment, about Phoebe. She's feeling a bit off at the moment.'

'Possibly something to do with all of those bombs going off. Or maybe rationing. Or maybe your baby. Totally unique, however,' Whilst he was talking, Ron looked around Gary's shop full of wartime memorabilia. He might have already have had a large meal, but Ron still munched at a chocolate digestive. 'Having a child born nearly 30 years before you.'

'Always a possibly with time travelling. I should nip back there really. But I think I'll just wait till Steve gets back, you?'

'Not much on at my place. I'm only the manager. But you crack on!'

Gary and Ron hang around for a while, but Steve seemed a long time in coming back. There wasn't much going on in his shop. After around an hour and with not much trade, Gary decided that Steve wasn't coming back and so decided to nip back in time. Ron would look after the shop for a while, but he was not your natural salesman. And Gary wondered why he never made that much money.

Gary went back with his usual route, but this took him to the past. To the wartime version of the Royal Oak. A familiar sight to him. Well, Britain and all the other patrons were in the middle of a desperate struggle for survival on all fronts, but for Gary, this represented his other life, and liked the contrast to the Nineties. He seemed even to enjoy the occasional scrapes he got into.

His wife, Phoebe gave him a smile, Reg was on his beat but enjoying a nice ale, a couple of soldiers were in the corner, and Steve was at the bar. WHAT? Only he could time-travel, or at least Gary had always assumed.

Gary was horrified, but Steve was pleased to see a friendly face. 'Hi, Gary,'

'What are you doing here?' cried Gary,

'Hi, Gary, nice to see you, you in this dream as well?'

'What are you talking about?'

'Well, I must be in a dream. Good one, however, that very same pub were in just a while back, but 43 years ago. There's that policeman who's picture we were looking at. Say, have I fallen into a coma and you are speaking to me in an effort to revive me, thanks, pal' concluded Steve. Steve was actually fairly relaxed about it, having assumed he was dreaming. The only thing he was wondering about was the strange taste of the forties beer he was drinking.

More relaxed than Gary was. Gary grabbed Steve's shoulders, 'This is so wrong,'

'Obviously, you're telling me!' Steve agreed.

'Come on, out, out!' Gary took Steve's arm and frogmarched him back through the time-tunnel, through the gates and back to Gary's shop were Ron was waiting almost about to leave.

'Oh, you woke me,thanks mate,'

Gary was happy to agree. 'Yes, you were dreaming, ha,ha!'

But Gary didn't sound convincing. At least not to Ron who knew the truth which was that Steve really did travel back through time to the forties, through the time tunnel. 'Perhaps it wasn't a dream, maybe it was real,' Ron suggested with a grin on his face for the benefit of Steve. Also for Gary who Ron was always a bit jealous of his time travelling abilities.

'No, no, it couldn't have been real, he can't go back,' panicked Gary.

'If it wasn't a dream, it was good. Going back in time, talking to Reg, he was a bit dim I thought, that barmaid was a bit tasty, I wonder if she might be interested in me, seeing that pub in full wartime regally, though it did look a bit dreary to be honest,'

Gary's face lurched from horror to horror as he listened to Steve.

'Precisely why can't Steve time travel, Gary?' asked Ron. 'Are you jealous in case someone else can do it as well as you. You shouldn't get possessive about this thing, but you can sometimes, I've noticed this,' Ron grinned as he leaned on the bar of Gays shop. He was enjoying Gary's look of panic.

'No, no its not that at all, it's just that... time travelling is a whole new experience for a novice, there are real dangers,' the reader can judge how genuine Gary's reply, 'he could do unknowing damage. How did you pay for your beer for example, you have no forties money.'

Steve was a bit disappointed. 'Oh, I made a trade. They liked my bananas so I exchanged a couple of them. A good deal, I thought.'

'You see what I mean? That can have unforeseen consequences. No, I'm sorry, you can't go back in time again, I forbid it, you have to go through my shop do to so, and I won't let you in here without my strict supervision, I'm sorry.' Gary made a show of going to the back of his shop and spreading his arms wide. There was a look of determination on his face.

Until Ron intervened on Steve's behalf. 'and who do you think you are, bouncer of time travel club 1942? I say he can time travel'

'What has this to do with you.' Gary argued angrily.

'Think you can manage by yourself do you? Think you can manage without all that help I give you? All those white fivers I print for your wartime currency? All those documents I print for you? You forbid Steve here from travelling back and you really are on your own.'

Steve was grateful for Ron's support, but wondered why Ron was been so. Maybe Ron was just been mischievous, creating trouble for its own sake. Ron could be a bit like that at times. Steve knew he enjoyed a good row.

Anyway, Gary crumbled faster than the Maginot line. 'All right, all right,' and moved away from the back exit of his shop. He even took it well and shook Steve's hand saying 'Welcome to World War Two,' which was a strange thing to welcome someone too, 'might be nice to have a time travelling buddy, actually, and you will need a hand at first. It can be a confusing place for a novice.'

'It was for you,' Ron agreed.

'I did get some strange looks when I asked for the nearest cash machine!' Steve admitted.

Gary laughed, 'see what I mean? What you need is some of Ron's white fivers. He does print 40s forgery so well,' and put his arm around Ron's shoulder in a gesture of reconciliation. Gary knew that Ron was so proud of his abilities as a printer he would take this as a good compliment.

With just a tiny touch of jealousy as he never could time travel, Ron offered, 'I suppose you will be wanting some more then?'

'Not just at this moment, actually, Ron, the ones I have will suffice. They do go a long way, longer than bananas, Steve!'

'Longer than nylon stockings?'

'Maybe not Ron!' and Ron and Gary laughed. Again those two seemed to be privy of some private joke of which Steve wasn't aware. 'We could go back now if you like but you're not quite properly dressed. Those work clothes are quite universal I suppose, but I do have a forties suit which should just fit you.'

Which it did and so a little while later, both Steve and Gary arm on each others shoulder, walked together across the time tunnel back to yester year. They waved farewell to Ron who waved back but then called, 'hey guys don't forget about our darts match tonight...' but none heard him. The team might be two players short,he thought. But then Ron himself tried to make the same journey, but as usual he ended up with his nose on Gary's security gates and kicked it in frustration. Time travel just wasn't for him.

After all the recent shanigans and because the time portal wasn't always quite 100% in tune, when Steve and Gary went back to 1940s Royal Oak, it was around 4pm. Not that busy, but the evening was only just starting. In fact only Phoebe and Reg were their. 'Hello, love, who's your mate?' asked Phoebe.

Gary introduced Steve and gave Phoebe a long kiss. Steve was a little taken aback as he knew he was married in the 90s. Before he twigged. He said quietly to Gary in a corner, 'Gary, you wouldn't be using the cover of time travel to be having an affair on the side, would you?'

Gary's face had rather a guilty expression. Steve had cottoned on to what Gary was doing quicker that Gary thought he would. 'All right,' said Reg and came to join them, shaking hands with Steve. The oddness of time travel was just beginning to be realities to Steve. 'You know, Gary you really ought to spend more time with your wife, Phoebes been missing you loads,'

It took a lot of effort for Steve to keep a straight face here. Steve was married here as well was he? But then he heard Gary's reply, 'sorry, I've been away. Big things happening in the far east. Us at h.q. have been busy sorting it out.'

Steve now did cough. Gary was a nice enough bloke, but the idea of him locking horns with the might of the Gestapo was something of a joke. This was a man, Steve recalled who couldn't even add his Darts up properly half the time. Still, everyone here believed him. The evening got better. After a while, Reg said 'we could do with some entertainment here,'

'Well someone put the duke-box on then,' suggested Steve,

Gary kicked him sharply in the shins saying, 'they don't have one here, this is 1942, remember,'

'Oh yes, of course, sorry, Gazza.'

'So ,come on, Gary, play us a song,' called Reg. There was a piano in the pub corner. Steve didn't really appreciate Gary's version of Bridge over Troubled Water, but everyone else did. 'Another hit from Gary, well done,' cried Reg, leading the small but enthusiastic applause.

'Yes, that one took some effort. More mellow than some of my other tunes,'

Steve asked Reg, 'so, how many other songs has Gary, er, written?'

'Ohh, lots, he has such talent in his music, in particular his writing. If he wasn't so busy with his war-work he'd be a major star,' to Steve's increasing astonishment he found out that Gary had written half of the Beetles and Rollin Stones tunes, many classic seventies material, Elton John hits and the odd Abba track to boot. He had to laugh but when Reg asked him why he found it so funny he replied,

'sorry, I had no idea he was so talented,' coughing as Gary was staring at him. Later on hu muttered to Gary, 'so let's get this straight, you have written many contemporary pop tunes, you are the forties equivalent of James Bond, no wonder you enjoy yourself here,' as he finished his drink.

Gary did have the grace to look a little embarrassed. 'Yes, I know. I couldn't help it, I had to think up a realistic alibi as to why I wasn't in the services. Your lucky people are not suspicious this evening and no-one has asked you. Still, you could do the same. I haven't quite claimed to have written every tune.

Altogether it was a very enjoyable evening, only marred by the odd dark reminder of the war. It was in the topic of many people's conversations and men in uniform did appear from time to time. There was a small group in the corner who looked sullen and shaken up. One snarled at Steve.

'They look a bit miserable,' Steve commented to Reg.

'Ah, they've just come back from the desert. Been chased across half of it by Rommell. No wonder they are a bit shell-shocked.'

Steve decided it was time to be returning to the 90s. But Gary was intent on staying. 'Im staying with Phoebe for a few days. See you soon,' and gave Steve a knowing wink. Steve shook his head and went back across the time portal.


	2. Chapter 2

Back in Nakasaghi

The 2nd part of my Goodnight Sweetheart tale. Steve Livingston's life is about to get dangerous.

-o0o0o0o0o0o0o-

The following Saturday, Steve thought he fancied a bit of the forties experience again. Gary was away, so he nipped back to Gary's yard and back to the Royal Oak. Then he was sitting with a wartime beer, which he was just getting used to and some comforting white fivers. His pocket. There was no sign of Gary, but his other wife, Phoebe gave him a wave. Steve gave her a sympathetic smile.

Steve looked at piano in the corner and some sailors he recognised from the other evening. 'Evening,' said he been a sociable person. 'Shall I play you a song,' he suggested, 'I've written a few tunes myself you know,' and moved over to the piano and opened its lid.

'Another songwriter, but you'll have to be could to live up to Gary,' said Phoebe.

'And from the secret service as well, never knew they were all so musical,' laughed Reg.

'Still let's hear it,' asked Phoebe, and Steve decided to play a little rendition of 'I'll get by with a little help from my friends,' though the version he was thinking of when he played it was a remake itself as it happened. Well, the applause and appreciation was positive. At first. Then Phoebe said thoughtfully, scratching her chin, 'I do think that Gary is a better singer to be honest. And I preferred crocodile rock,'

'Yes Gary is a bit better,' Reg agreed to Steve's annoyance. Then he added, 'I've heard that one before anyway. That's one of Gary's that is. You! That's cheeky, playing a tune that isn't yours and claiming it. That's wotssname, plagiarism!'

'Well, he should know and thank you for your input,' replied Steve frostily. Then moved over and joined in the conversation with the Sailors. They did seem an interesting bunch, just back from the British Raj, one of them was Indian, Imran, who told dramatic, but frankly untrue, tales of foreign countries from his engine room. The places they had been to. Some, Steve could only dream of going. But they weren't that wealthy. Feeling his fivers again, Steve thought that he probably was the richest person in the pub, and he was feeling generous and in a mood for more beer.

Steve was crouching under a large plant. Soaking wet. Hot and scared. In the middle of a jungle. Well, a rainforest to be precise, but Steve wasn't in the mood to be precise. And there was a good reason as to why he was hiding. He was hiding because across a clearing in one of the many trees was a Japanese sniper, who as it actually counted his kills and would have been only too happy to blow Steve's brains out.

In fact the Japanese were in control of the entire country having pushed out the British and Americans. Steve was terribly hungry having not eaten all day, trying to keep,out of the torrential rainfall, ignoring the leeches biting his feet and the many other insects around him, large hairy spiders possibly, but that was the least of his problems.

He quietly moved the large rifle he was carrying to a comfortable position, He, Steve from the 1990s, carryingna rifle. He couldn't believe matters had come to this. But he had to have a rifle. He had to protect himself against the marauding Japanese who half the time were in no mood to take prisoners and even if they did Steve didn't fancy life as a Japanese pow.

One of his friends offered him some kind of food, but whilst he was grateful, it wasn't his ideal choice of Indian cuisine! For a moment Steve gave a little sigh and wondered how his life had taken such a wretched turn.

It was that Saturday evening in the Royal Oak. A bit flush, in a sociable mood, and perhaps drinking more of that wartime ale than he should have done, Steve became rather pally with some sailors at the pub. They had tales of the exotic places they had visited, and wonderlust conquered Steve's soul. He found out they were in need of an extra hand.

'We're of to India for trade, should be good and profitable an easy life, well easier than this war-torn country is, fancy coming?' Steve agreed that a holiday in the British Raj sounded fun. How he would later come to regrert this! But off he went.

His first sign of regret came when he met the ship's captain, Captain Ferguson. He was a dour scot and seemed little pleased to have someone new to the sea on board the vessel. 'Keep him out of my way and keep him busy,' he growled. In fact the first day he yelled at Steve, 'go and find some and work, get to the kitchen, do something useful or I'll leave you stranded at our first port!'

Other than that, the first stage of the journey was good. After a day or so they entered the Mediterranean, nice and hot, the sea blue and calm. They were taking the usual route to India via the Suez canal. Steve spend his time in the kitchen, doing chores up deck but he enjoyed most working in the engine room with Imran, the funny little Indian chap with his amusing, but not very believable tales of his journeys in a blue engineers uniform.

He was in the kitchen when he felt an explosion and the ship, called the Maurice lurched. It was at this moment that he remembered that this was 1942 the world was at war and there was always the chance the ship could be sunk. The alarm sounded and he hurried up deck. Nathan, the navigator was watching the seas with a pair of binoculars.

'There are some destroyers out there. Italian.'

'So, nothing to worry about. Do they do good pasta?'

'Those are six Italian destroyers. Out for the kill with torpedoes, big guns and god knows what, down!' cried Nathan, as some shells exploded behind Maurice, and foam splashed over the deck. 'The good news is that there are also some Royal Navy vessels close by. The bad news is that we will be in the middle of a naval battle. Well just have to try to sneak away,'

Steve's thoughts were a bit mixed here. On the one hand, he did think, Italians! Surrender monkeys, what is the problem? On the other hand he did see several large ships with weaponry enough to sink the Maurice and frankly nearly crapped his pants. Truth was he was always told not quite the whole truth about the true Italian fighting capabilities. He was especially fearful when he saw shells landing on some of the ships. One Italian one was even sinking.

But the Maurice did sneak out of the battle. Whilst they did have some small arms, they were not really fitted out for warfare against full battleships. In fact they were part of the Merchant Navy and on a trading mission to India which is why none of those sailors were actually called up. And many were not English or of a fighting age anyway. Only Nathan was, but he got away with been a skilled Navigator on the Maurice.

However, after that incident, there was no more danger for a while. The Maurice passed through the Suez canal and on to India peacefully enough. Though the skipper was always on his case. Even if Steve was innocently looking at some interesting ruins in Egypt, Ferguson would snarl, 'work, work, work, you!'

'But I want to see those interesting Pyramids,'

'Carry on like that and I will bury you in one myself!'

They did see some of the sights of Egypt later. In the meantimeSteve used his decorating abilities to paint Maurice. In an interesting shade of blue in honour of his favourite football team, Chelsea. With a few corners of green for his Irish ancestory and his amateur football team which he liked to follow live in the flesh. But Maurice travelled on and made sailing as far as India. Which Steve enjoyed for a few weeks. Especially with his wages and some of the white fivers head managed to keep.

Then he had news that the crew were off again. 'Borneo,' said Fred an old member. Borneo, Steve had heard of the country but had little idea of were it was in the world.

'Somewhere in the far east,' explained Nathan.

'isn't that a bit close to Japan?' asked Steve.

'No, well be fine. Japan is hundreds of miles away. After that maybe Australia, never been there before, have you?' Steve had to confirm this, and as he had never been to Australia before fancied a trip there as well. Though now he thought about it, he had being away from 90s Blighty for quite a while. Still, nothing wrong with new experiences and it wasn't as if he could nip back to the time portal now anyway.

Whilst in India and with a forces connection, Steve experienced the joys of watching a concert party. Steve remembered a certain sitcom about far east concert parties and wondered if it was in any way accurate. Turned out it was 100%! The concert troop called themselves the Gay Boys which gave Seve a wry smile and thinking of how words changed their meaning over the decades.

But that was as good as the evening got. The show started with a song eeriingly similar to the program's, but there was little else funny. One man dressed as a woman, someone doing strange strength tests, or frankly the worse Adolf Hitler impersonation he had ever seen. At least he presumed it was Hitler who was been impersonated. Though Steve was obviously in a minority as everyone else thought the show a triumph. 'If this is what comedy was like, role on Month Python,' he thought giving the laughing Nathan a look of bitter reproach. The show probably was worse than comedy would be on British TV in 2012. But not by much!

Now Steve continued on his journey eastwoods on Maurice but without Imran. The little Indian had decided to stay in his home country. 'And you'd better watch yourself with your navigator. I don't trust his abilities,' he said whilst eating curried chicken and rice.

'He's done fine so far!' said Steve defending his friend.

'Look at him in the FarEast. He's never been there!'

But initially Imran appeared wrong. The Maurice journeyed in pleasant conditions. The sea was mostly fair and quite warm. It chugged on in the warm Indian ocean, were Steve had never been, not even in the Nineties. There was one storm where the sea became very stormy and Steve was rather sick over the railings, but he was no different than the rest of the crew. For about a week, the Maurice sailed on in this manner then one day he saw Nathan spending the whole day looking anxious and pouring over his charts. This concerned Steve or should have done.

Steve saw a meeting of the crew and asked, 'What 's up?'

'Do you want to know the bad news or the really bad new?' replied Bert, an old experienced hand of the sea. Steve looked at him anxiously. 'The bad news is that we are lost. Turns out Nathan here doesn't know this part of the world very well. We were not quite where he thought we were. A few hundred miles to the north, actually!'

'Then what's the really bad news?'

'The really bad news is that is that if you look on the horizon you will see some ships.' Steve did so. 'They are Japanese! You can see the Japanese flag on them. We don't know if they are interested in us, but we will have to avoid them,' The Japanese were behind Maurice as it happened, so to do so they had to sneak onwoods.

A meeting was held as to what to do now. The Maurice was in need of re-fuelling anyway, so the Captain decided to make for a civilian port. 'Singapore is best and nearest as far as I can tell,' advised Nathan, looking at the charts and scratching his head. The name Singapore rang a bell to Steve but nothing precise. Unfortunately, the crew had not been keeping up,to date with recent wartime news, or they would have known that Singapore had just fallen to the Japanese!

Maurice travelled on on the Far East seas, and finally, Steve could make out the port of Singapore on the horizon through his Binoculars. Also, some ships. Steve looked at them, to see the re-assauring flag of the Royal Navy. He did see some flags. Japanese flags! He then heard Harry, on the Radio, calling, 'We have a signal. It's Japanese, coming from that cruiser behind us.' Overhead, a plane flew. A Japanese one! The Japanese at then were pretty ruthless to their enemies. The Captain doubted if the Japanese would make disrinctions between the civilian and the military. And even if they did, Steve didn't fancy his chances of survival as a Japanese POW. They were correct on both counts

Steve thought he was scared before, but that was nothing compared to the utter panic he felt now. And rage. 'I only wanted to play a few decent old songs to impress wartime London, and here I am in the middle of the Japanese Navy! This never happened to Gary!' Steve wasn't alone in feeling terror, however. None of the other crew wanted to be in this spot and many others were panicking. 'Why don't we pretend we are American?, Steve suggested which was rather a stupid thing to say. Of course, Japan was probably more at war with the USA than anywhere else.

The Captain now took a hand. He was a dour Scot who tolerated no nonsense, but Steve would later admit that he probably was the right person for this situation. He shot a gun into the air. 'Right all of yours useless lot, up and pay attention. We are in a bit of a mess. If we are to survive, we have to show discipline, courage and some basic common sense. There is s shore less than a mile away. We'll have to make for that. And you,' he signalled out Steve personally as the new crew member. 'I am just about sick of your constant whining and snivelling. Who do you think you are, Neville bloody Chamberlain? Your not the only person on this ship suffering. If you don't get some backbone you spineless wretch, you has better hope the Japanese get to you before I do!' Captain Ferguson obviously didn't know that Steve was from the nineties, but wouldn't have been impressed with Nineties manhood if he had been.

The odd thing was, Steve thought, the Skipper did sound like he meant it. At least, he wasn't going to test Captain Ferguson. But he hadn't used a single swear word. If someone from modern times had threatened him with less severity he would have used many swear words. Which just again served to show how language changed over the decades.

Anyway, the Maurice sped for the shore, using the last drops of its fuel. But the Japanese were aware of them. Shells fell around the Maurice and one hit the ship causing fire and explosions The Maurice started sinking only metres short of the shore. But Steve had to abandon ship before been roasted and make for the shore in the water. He even saw some sharks in the sea and bullets from the Japanese ships whizzed around him. He wasn't the greatest of swimmers but he managed to just about stay afloat. Wondering if he was going to be shot, eaten, burned or drowned, he made it to the shore.

8 men emerged from the sea, wet, cold, tired and frightened. The Captain ordered them to run to cover. In doing so, Steve banged his knee horribly on a rock, causing a nasty cut which in the Nineties would have caused him to make a fuss but here he said nothing and endured it. Behind him Maurice was hit and exploded in flames of red and yellow and smoke. The men gathered behind a bush.

Ahead was a path, but the Captain, who did have some experience of warfare advised them not to go to it in case of Japanese snipers. They had managed to bring enough rifles for everyone and a modest supply of bullets from the ship before it was destroyed. Steve was given one which he accepted with a look of fear on his face. It turned out the Captain's advice was good. Along the path, two British soldiers came running. But they didn't get far before, crack, crack and both fell dead, shot by a sniper in the trees.

This was Steve's first sight of death and he paled in fear. But Ferguson growled, 'we'd best wait till dark out of Sniper range. Then decide what to do.' Some provisions had been saved such as rice and Stuart a crew-member produced some beef sauce so some kind of meal was had. Still, recent events caused Steve to shake with terror. He began to sweat, it was hot. He suddenly realized he hadn't taken any tablets or anything. The possibility of geting maleria added to his fears.

Leeches sucking at his ankles were another source of discomfort. 'Makes for good food they do,' said Bert who could cook, but this fact did little to re-assure Steve. Looking bitterly at the jungle as night fell, how he wished that he was in the woods in the park near to his home back in North London. Or should that be forward to his home in North London gven the time difference? Frankly, Steve was in no mood to think about the gramatical nature of time travel!

But there was now some discussion about what to do. Without the ship, progress was going to be slow. Some suggested nipping to the port and trying to take a boat and make for a safe port such as Australia, possibly the nearest one with the Japs now on control of much of the Pacific. But such a course of action was fraught with peril. The port was under Japanese control as was the nearby seas for hundreds of miles.

The only other option was to walk slowly through the Japanese controlled no matter how long it took. A desperate enough venture, but what else could they do to avoid capture and life as a japanese POW? Steve knew that it was even more desperate than that. His geography of the world at that time was hazy, but he now remembered that the Japanese were probably in control of much of the country up to India. They would have had to march across hundreds of miles in these wretched conditions.

So, through the night, they travelled eastwoods. Or at least where Nathan, the only person who knew anything about the geography, which was desperate enough as it was. They marched through the night without pause to take advantage of night cover and after a brief, in Steve's opinion anyway, sleep were off again to sneak through in daylight of little daylight would break through the forest.

But the going was slow. Through narrow paths, up and downhill with vegetation, leeches and mud getting under Steve's feet. Flocks of birds sometimes flew out of the trees and the incessant noise of insects chirping. There was the odd signs of battle such as discarded vehicles, some Japanese soldiers marching or the odd whoop of explosions or sound of gunfire. Food was beginning to run low as Captain Ferguson pointed out. 'Not to worry,' said Bert with rather unreasonable cheerfulness, 'I am a dab hand at getting grub in the jungles, I've been here before. I'll forage something.' And indeed he did. If one liked Ants. Or Beatles. Or literally grubs. Didn't improve Steve's mood any.

Then that evening one crew member, Bill, said 'are we going east?'

'That is the idea, yes,' growled Captain Ferguson in Scotch tones.

'Because we aren't. I just noticed the sunset. It is ahead of us. Which surely means we were going west. Further into Japanese controlled territory.' So they had been travelling a day and night in precisely the wrong direction. Steve groaned.

'Why, why, oh why did I ever come to 1942?' thought he! Progress even in the right direction was very slow and winding mostly in the dark. It was also tiring and the bug diet was starting to get on Steve's nerves. They travelled on in this manner for a few days and night, though Steve was beginning to lose track of the days. They did occasionally pass some locals, though in general they kept out of the way, not trusting whos side they might be on.

Then Fred gave a shout. They had come to a clearing. On the border of it were the corpses of several beheaded British soldiers. The scene of an execution. Steve felt slightly sick. It didn't look like the Japanese were taking prisoners. Moving away from this grizzly place, the crew finally found some living fellow Brits. A squad of around 40. However, pleased as they were to see friendly faces in jungle uniform and to get any information, this information did not make for pleasant news.

The Japanese were in control of the whole country for hundreds of miles and the British scattered, dead, captured or in full retreat. Not retreating, full scale running! If Steve ever thought that the English never ran he was in for a rude awakening. But the main force of the British or British Empire forces were far away to the south or east. Strong Japanese troops were much closer.

After the conversation and a bit more journeying, they bumped into some Japanese soldiers. Not many, but the Japanese became aware of them. Some shot at the party, behind trees. The British fired back and in instance the Japanese pulled back. But some of their shots had hit the target. One of which was Steve. He was shot in the leg causing pain the likes of which he had ever felt in his life. 'Shot, shot, shot, I've been shot,' he cried with a great curse.

The Captain took a moment to check him out. 'Only flesh wound, wish I hadn't bothered to look now, stop crying and mind your language,' he growled with little sympathy.

Still, that following night was just about the worse Steve could ever remember. In pain from his wound, in terror of the Japanese, Maleria, hungry, tired but unable to sleep, listening to all the sounds of wildlife around him and quietly sobbing, he was now developing manflu which back home would have meant a week off work. Here it could just earn him death. Been a bit ill also reminded him of the perils of maleria. Now a large, hairy spider landed on his shoulder. The least of his problems, though he was worried by many of the poisonous creatures he could come across. Bert came and put his arm around his shoulder.

'You should stop sobbing quite so much. You could bring the Japs upon us!'

'I am here in a jungle having shot. In 1942! And I can't even swear properly I'm sorry, I just wasn't prepared for this!'

'Yes, well, name someone amongst who is. Why do you think you're so special?' naturally Steve couldn't answer this! 'None of us want to be in this situation. We are all hurt to. Take me. I'm nearly sixty. I thought I would reach retirement soon. My legs have been bitten by something nasty, it always was a bit dodgy, I never intended to be here dodging the Japs. All of us have cuts, bruises, strains, poor Nathan has busted ribs in case you had forgotten It's not just you, you know. I came this way on peacetime, 5 years ago. I met several Japanese on business. Nice enough people, I thought. I didn't ever think I wpild be running for my life from them,' which, Steve agreed put matters in some perspective.

'What was that, I think I heard something mechanical,' Steve whispered and he and Bert decided to quietly investigate. 'I think it was through these trees,' he suggested and the jungle slopped downwards. 'Wooh,' declared he. They had come to a high cliff. Hundreds of metres below was a large clearing with grass, woodland and a river running through. And Japanese soldiers. Hundreds, maybe thousands of them. With tanks, large guns, boats even an aeroplane overhead. 'Suppose we had better go back and tell the others about this,'he whispered to Bert.

The two were watching trough some trees. Then Bert slipped. He was dangling behind a tree desperately clinging on to it to avoid dropping down. He began to fall, when Steve hurried to Bert and grabbed on to him , for a few moments in the view of the Japanese below. Seve dragged Bert back, saving his fall, just as the Japanese spotted them and fired up, narrowly missing. 'Thanks, glad you came with us after all,' said Bert slapping Steve's back.


	3. Chapter 3

Back in Nakasagaki, final part

The 3rd and final chapter of this Goodnight sweetheart tale. Steve Livingstone is deep in s.h.1.t. He has found a time tunnel which takes him back 43 years to ww2. For some strang reason, he thinks he might have a good time their. Unfortunately,whilst their, he takes a wrong turn and ends up in a Far East rain forest under the control of the Japanese.

Not the best place for an Englishman to be in 1942. So, how is he going to get out of it? If you do come across this, it is an extremely quiet fandom so reviews would be greatfully received, thanks, Ham.

-o0o0o0o0o0o0-

Meantime, in 1995, Ron and Gary were in Gary's shop, Blitz and Pieces. It was a Wednesday afternoon, trade was very quiet. Although, to be fair, sometimes Gary didn't need much trade to make some modest money. They were enjoyng an afternoon coffee, Ron, a large sausage sandwich. Both were wondering what had happened to their pal, Steve, whom they hadn't seen for some weeks. 'Do you know what has happened to your time-travelling buddy, Steve? I haven't seen him for weeks! You haven't stopped him time-travelling have you? You know what I said I'll do if you do that!'

'Of course I haven't, think about it!'

'How so?'

'Well, if he was unable to time-travel you'd see him here, wouldn't you?'

'Suppose,' Ron finished his snack and looked around for more.

'No, I think actually he is out having fun the other way. He's out exploring the world in the 40s. I heard he was out travelling in India or Africa or somewhere. He does like to shoot off at short notice at times. Remember that time he went of to Spain for six months. Didn't even remember to ring his Dad for three. He is a bit absent minded and can let impulse run his life, mmmmm, should I spend the evening with Yvvonne who is missing me, check on Phoebe who wants me to spend more time with her, and shall I mull this one over a pint at the Royal Oak and which one?'

'Oh, the dilemmas of a time-travelling biggamist! Still, hope Steve is all right. It can be a dangerous place the world in the forties can't it?'

At that precise moment 43 years ago, and a few thousand miles east, so not really at that moment, Steve was saying, 'you're welcome,' to his old shipmate Bert who had just thanked him for saving him from a long fall down to the Japanese army. Still, as Steve moved away he thought, 'that does beat bungee jumping for a thrill.' A strange thought to think under the circumstances, but there it is! 'Also, after bunge jumping, one is not normally still in terror of more danger,' he supposed. The other thing he thought of, as he looked at the long distance down was, 'health and safety should be around here!'

The two quietly returned to the rest of the British. Steve gave an account of what he had seen to his Captain. But it turned out this information was of no surprise. The Japanese were all around. And the news got better. Apparently, the one route they could take was cut off. So they could be in for a battle. But most were up for it. 'Let's now have a straight fight rather than all of this sneaking around,' said the Captain and most agreed with him. Only Steve disagreed, having actually seen the Japanese but none were with him, save maybe Bert or Nathan, but they were saying nought.

The break out plan was going to happen the next day. Steve thought it was going to be a massacre of which he would be on the wrong end of. He felt depressed, not to mention scared stiff. He couldn't sleep or stay still even, so he moved a bit along the jungle in a little aimless wonder. He heard a voice. Behind the trees. Speaking English but having a strange conversation. 'I think we've had enough searching for today. Maybe we should go back. It can be dangerous even for us, uncharted time-zones!'

'We'll just look around for a little while longer. The subject shouldn't have been blundering around here, remember! If we lose him that might take time and complications for us!'

'Were they talking about him?' Looking across to a small dell, Steve saw two people, a man and a woman dressed in clothes that were modern for 1995 never mind 1943! Also they were both fiddling with devices in their hands a bit like mobile phones, but much more advanced in reality. He decided to risk it. It couldn't be any more dangerous than a one sided battle against the Japs, anyway. Steve walked in front of the two. 'Hello, are you referring to me?' he began

The lady looked at him, then at her device. 'Steve Livingstone, I persume! You are a little out of your time, aren't you? Took us quite a while to find you. Do you need any help in getting back?' She was an Oriental lady as it happened, but from a time in the future rather than the savage early forties past.

Steve gasped, 'oh, please! If there is any way you can get me out of this, please do!'

The man smiled, 'Yes, I think we can. You weren't supposed to go through that time tunnel back in Duckets passage. A classic variable chromosone factor mix-up I'm afraid. And a bit of a temporal cock-up to tell the truth. One that can sometimes have fatal consequences upon the variable subject matter itself. Remember the 1066 Hastings case. Nasty that was. Took us whole weeks of meetings in committees to sort it out!'

'I still have nightmares about that one,' his colleague agreed.

They seemed to be wondering from the point. Steve coughed and asked, 'You said you could help me. Please?'

The lady smiled at him, 'I'm sorry, we do seem to be wondering from the point. I will tell you what we can do. We can send you back to Duckets passage in 1995. Some time will have elapsed as we cannot quite send you back to the precise moment you left. About,' she looked at the device in her hand and pressed something on it, 3 weeks or so. Best we can do I am afraid. Some nasty consequences of casualty otherwise, sadly. But there is one thing,' she looked at him, 'it is a one way journey only. Cannot have a classic variable like you going back and forth. So you have a choice. You can if you like, stay here. We understand that whilst time travelling some make certain commitments. Or you can go back to 1995. Or was that forward to 1995? Never been too sure about that, myself time travelling grammar never was my strong suit.'

Steve gave her a look like she was mad. 'Hmm, let me see now, do I wish to stay here, hungry, tired about to face a massacre by Japanese, the best result of which can be years in a Japanese jail, or back safe in 1995? Let me think about that!' he made an ironic show of thinking, 'of course I want to go to 1995!' Strangely as he said this, Steve felt some guilt. He wasnt going to win any Victoria Crosses with this attitude. And was he not abandoning his comrades? But then he thought, 'no, let's be sensible here. This is no place for a man of my generation,'

'Fine, fair enough, we had to ask. Are you ready?'

Steve prepared to depart. But before he did he wondered about something. 'Why is it that Gary can come and go as he pleases, then?'

'Who?' asked the lady,

'ar, Sparrow, Gary, the Duckets passage case,' the man explained, then the two of them laughed, 'don't worry about him. He is in for a surprise!' there was just something about the attitude of both of them that Steve thought that Gary should take care. Anyway, Steve was asked to walk towards a tree, then he found himself in Gary's yard in his shop in 1995.

Gary was there as was Ron and they looked around in some surprise to see Steve wonder in the back door. Steve did look a state. Clothes cut and worn, wounded, limping, unshaven and smelling something bad. Steve looked at them, shaking his head. 'Even you will not believe what has happened to me!' he said slowly to them.

'Try me! You look like you could do with a beer!' said Gary.

'I could do with several beers. And food. But first a wash I think I smell a bit and a change of clothes. You have a shower, don't you? Tell you what, Ron, you couldn't nip round to my place and sent over some fresh attire, everything, even down to underwear please! In the meantime I shall have a wash!' As it happened Ron was free and able to do just that.

Then the 3 of them headed of to the Royal Oak, 1995! Were Ron and Gary looked in surprise as Steve bought, then downed in seconds, not just one, but two pints of lager, and ordered the largest meal on offer then eat it quickly. 'Take it easy, were have you been, mate, the North Pole?' asked Ron. Oddly the grandson of Reg, also a policeman, but a nineties variety was in the pub.

'I wish I had been. At least compared to were I was,' replied Steve, then told his tale. Gary and Ron were a good audience. At least they were the only people likely to believe Steve anyway.

'That was a decent adventure,' said Gary.

'Indeed yes. Steve seemed to get stuck in more than you in some ways,' agreed Ron.

'Stuck is what I certainly was,' thought Steve. Though after a wash, change of clothes and a good meal, he was feeling a lot better. And now he could actually sleep safely at nights he realized. Though he was to suffer a little from post-pneumatic stress disorder. Not much that Steve could about that. He wondered what to do now, contact his Dad perhaps, who might be worried or certainly annoyed by his absence. But Gary's suggestion startled him.

'I have to go back to the shop. You two coming,'

'I don't think I should,' said Steve shaking his head.

'Why not?'

'Because, Gary, I might just slip through that time-portal again,'

'I thought you said you couldn't do that anymore?'

'Yes, so I was told. But knowing my luck, I still might. Then end up in a middle of a tank-battle between the Germans and Russians in bloody Moscow, no doubt.' complained Steve.

'Then again maybe that's a good reason to go. Just to see that you can't. Put an official end to this chapter of your life,' argued Ron poetically as he finished his drink and the last of his food. Steve did agree that this made sense and the 3 left the Royal Oak to walk the short journey back to Blitz and Pieces.

When he entered, Steve saw a poster about the Burma campaign, one of many posters Gary decorated his shop with to give the shop a wartime feel. This made him wonder about the fate of his comrades. Later on, he did some checking. To his surprise he found that most of them did survive, though they had a rough time. 3 did die including Captain Ferguson and Nathan. They were taken prisoner and spend over 3 years in a Japanese POW camp. Steve wasn't sure of his own survival chances in this situation and neither would he have liked it much.

Back in Gary's shop, Gary said, 'Well, are you ready? Let us just confirm that I am the only one that can still do this!' he gave a little cocky dance as he did so.

In fact Steve thought he was been a bit too cocky for his own good. He remembered the words of the people who had bought him back. Was Gary dancing on thin ice and didn't even know it? 'You sound very casual about all this time travelling lark. Do you ever worry that their might come a time when you can't do it? You won't always be able to have your cake and eat it?'

Gary gave Steve a quick look of horror that showed that this was indeed a concern of his. But he responded with bravado. 'What's the point of having a cake if you can't eat it? I'll always be able to time travel! Having cleared that up. Anyone wishing to give it a try?'

Together almost arm in arm the three walked across the time portal. But they all had different experiences. Gary ended up in 1942 as usual and made his way to Phoebe. Ron was unable to follow and gave his usual curse. Steve wasn't able to either. But he gave a smile and patted Ron on the back. 'Don't worry mate. You are definitely better off here!' and felt nothing but relief.

The end


End file.
